Some Things Never Change
by Kristin Campbell
Summary: Ginny heads back to Hogwarts as a teacher and finds some of her colleagues more accepting than others.
1. Some Things Never Change

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to JK Rowling. The plot is mine.  
  
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"Wait a bloody second!" Ron stopped her," You're going to be working at Hogwarts?!?"  
  
"Yes," his little sister replied defiantly, "What's wrong with that?"  
  
"Nothing, I guess, I'm just kind of shocked, Ginny. I never thought you had it in you; Albus only picks the best."  
  
"Oh, well, thank you, Ron, for that- uh- show of support. But I must be going; the carriage is outside to pick me up. Professor Dumble- uh- Albus said he needed me right away. Give Hermione my love."  
  
"I will. Take care of yourself."  
  
"I will," she called as she swept her luggage out the door of the Burrow and into the carriage, taking her to Hogwarts.  
  
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It didn't seem much had changed since Ginny last attended Hogwarts but that was only eight years prior. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to be different; maybe it would seem smaller now that she had traveled, but the walls of the wizardry school loomed intimidating lofty above her head.  
  
Ginny found her quarters easily, next to Professor McGonagall's. The room was already adorned with drapes and linens of red and gold. Though Virginia Weasley had matured considerably since her days as Seeker, the great sense of Gryffindor pride was still present in her life, more so, now, that she was returning to her second home. The house elves had already unpacked her belongings and scattered them in various organized places around the room. She laughed to herself, knowing how long that would last.  
  
"Mistress Weasley," Ginny felt a small tug on her robe.  
  
"Why, hello, Dobby!" she replied to the house-elf gazing up at her with his tennis ball sized eyes.  
  
"Dinner will be served soon and it is requested that Virginia Weasley will make way to the Great Hall to join us."  
  
"Thank you, but I'm not really hungry."  
  
"But Mistress, Dobby thinks it most considerate to the students if the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would greet them at the Great Feast."  
  
Ginny agreed that she would and Dobby disappeared with a snap of his fingers, leaving her to freshen up and change into a new robe for dinner.  
  
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"Good evening, Ginny," Minerva McGonagall greeted her as the youngest Weasley took a seat next to the aging, but still vivacious, professor.  
  
"Good evening, Professor," Ginny replied as she was taught in this very hall so many years before.  
  
"My goodness, dear, no need for all those pretenses anymore; your role here has changed, so please, call me Minerva."  
  
Ginny felt strange but she replied using the woman's first name. She had never thought before that she would be in this position-referring to those she once learned under and admired as her peers, as if she were just as wise and experienced as they were. It would take a little while to get used to. Virginia still viewed herself as a girl, a girl who traveled and faced dangers and while she spent a few good years of her life in the war against Voldemort, she knew she had a lot to learn.  
  
"Well, good evening, Miss Weasley," a low voice drawled behind her, before the man it belonged to took his seat.  
  
"Good evening, Professor Snape," she replied quickly, still frightened of him from her Gryffindor days as a student.  
  
"Some things," Minerva whispered in her ear, "never change."  
  
Ginny stifled a giggle and prepared for the feast. 


	2. A New Chance

Author's note: Of course, respect and credit to J.K. Rowling for her wonderful fodder, on which we have fed and expanded. Sorry it has taken so dreadfully long to update, but with graduation behind me, I have plenty of time.  
  
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"Back so soon," Snape asked with a look of condemnation for his still fresh student, returned from childhood travel and tribulations to accept the position for which he had yearned for so long. Her eyes still held the eagerness that embodied her character, but lost the naïve sparkle that blinds one of the lines between bravery and foolishness.  
  
"Yes, Professor," she answered staring nearly straight ahead of her, not looking at him or anything else, the way he always taught her in class only eight years prior. "I guess I can't stay away. Besides, Dumbledore's invitation was most cordial and I simply couldn't refuse."  
  
"I see. Let's only hope you don't maintain that kind of a backbone with your pupils or this year at Hogwarts may result in the same lack of discipline that ran rampant during your eight years."  
  
"Yes, Professor," she replied, inhaling deeply to keep herself from passing out. He enjoyed the terror he still inflicted upon her, as if she were still his student, petrified about passing his class or what to tell her parents when he sent an owl home telling them she would have to repeat potions or whatever evil torture he create for her, only to answer correctly with all the poise she had left in her.  
  
She had grown up even prettier than he had imagined, her fair skin like lily petals against her contradictory red hair. Everyone always said that a redhead's personality was fiery like her hair, but he never saw that fire in Virginia Weasley, not that he doubted its existence. He knew it was there, she just never lost her temper with him. He always wanted to turn her loose, to see that fire in action, but dared not while she was his student. Now here she sat, no longer his student. He wondered if he would be able to resist.  
  
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A/N: Sorry it's short, but I'm really trying to get back in the habit and see where I'm going with this story, so if you give me feedback, I will be more apt to continue quickly. 


	3. Day One

A/N: Ok... so this one is a little longer, kinda choppy but longer... REVIEW!!! That is all.  
  
"Alright, everyone," Ginny cried, unheard in the noise of her chaotic classroom, "take your seats! Please, boys and girls, just SIT DOWN!" She sighed, frustrated, and slumped in to her chair, before letting out another seemingly silent scream of vehemence.  
  
The fourth years were sending paper broomsticks in death defying configurations out the classroom window as the loud snap of a sturdy, well-used wand echoed throughout the room. Silence followed.  
  
"I expect you all will be sitting and allowing Professor Weasley to begin," Snape commanded in his surly drawl. He took a satisfactory glance at Ginny. "And I expect you teach will someday attempt to command you undivided attention." With a sneer and a turn, he was gone the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher began the class of her teaching career.  
  
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"Minerva, I don't think this is going very well. My first years were fine, if they're anything like I was, they're much too petrified to misbehave, but the sixth years kept snickering every time I said Ashwinder (see Author's note below) and I couldn't even get the attention of the fourth years on my own. Snape decided to drop in and make me look like a fool in front-"  
  
"Truthfully, Miss Weasley," that dreadful voice crept into her life again, "you managed to make yourself look like a fool quite well on your own. Perhaps tomorrow you will be able to teach a group of 14-year-old children that you are older than they are and know more than they do; I doubt they were convinced of that lesson this morning. You can counteract two Unforgivables at once all while mixing a truth serum and waving your pretty little wand to defeat Voldemort, but you can't keep a gaggle of children from talking. Imagine that." He took to eating his lunch while Ginny forced back a tear and glared at her plate.  
  
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"Here I go again," Ginny sighed, as she entered her classroom again after lunch. Next were the seventh years and Minerva warned her that this would be her most difficult group. She knew their attitude: one more year to go, future careers already falling into place. No matter how poorly they did, students could always contribute any asset they had toward finding and eliminating any lasting Deatheaters still amongst the rubble of the war against Voldemort. The results were much the same as the first time Voldemort was "defeated" back before she was ever born. Many of those who claimed to be loyal to the Dark Lord turned their back on their fellow followers as soon as the dust settled and they saw who was still standing; the others went into hiding, waiting for their Lord's resurrection. Not this time... Harry made sure of that. Not a living trace of Voldemort existed, not even his mark--Harry's scar, nothing but his legacy and even that would fade. Everything was gone now, his wand, his body, and his nemesis, nothing but the stories to remind those who were there of his great evil and the great soul who gave his life, so that others would not have to any longer.  
  
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Ginny's next two classes were just as hellish and the bubble bath that Dobby had conjured for her was more inviting than she had ever imagined possible. She basked in the ever-warm water for over an hour, struggling to drown the memories of Harry that this place brought so readily to her mind. She watched him die, held him close to her as he convulsed and sputtered, and finally after his prolonged and painful resistance, surrendered to Voldemort's last curse. She knew now why they called it an Unforgivable.  
  
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The warm towel outside her tub wrapped around her nearly twice as she stepped out of the warm water into the chilly air of her room in the castle. She would definitely tell Dobby to turn up the heat sometime. She slipped into her robes for dinner and forced herself to join the crowd at the feast. She wasn't sure if she could handle Snape's jeering after her extended cry in the tub, but not facing him was not an option. Besides, she hated the idea of sitting in her room and thinking about him all night. "Hello, dear," Minerva's reassuring smile greeted her at diinner, "how was the rest of your day?"  
  
"Not much better," the poor frustrated girl admitted. "The seventh years acted just as you warned. Hopefully tomorrow will be better once they've gotten rid of that first day newness."  
  
"Don't be so certain," another voice warned. 'Damn him!' she thought. 'Why in the bloody world does he care so much how my day is going?' "By this time, they are aware of what kind of professor you really are and how they are allowed to behave. It wasn't so long ago that you were one of them; one would think that you would be able to handle a few of your own."  
  
Ginny forced her anger down as she yearned to scream at him that she wasn't a child anymore and he couldn't taunt her anymore but the thought of yelling at him terrified her. Maybe he was right. Would the rest of the year really be this awful?  
  
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A/N: Ashwinder: (from Fantastic Beasts and where to find them) "The Ashwinder is created when a magical fire is allowed to burn unchecked for too long. A thin, pale-grey serpent with glowing red eyes, it will rise from the embers of an unsupervised fire and slither away into the shadows of the dwelling in which it finds itself, leaving an ashy trail behind it. The Ashwinder lives for only an hour and during that time seeks a dark and secluded spot in which to lay its eggs, after which it will collapse into dust. Ashwinder eggs are brilliant red and give off intense heat. They will ignite the dwelling within minutes if not found and frozen with a suitable charm. Any wizard realising that one or more Ashwinders are loose in the house must trace them immediately and locate the nest of eggs. Once frozen, these eggs are of great value for use in Love Potions and may be eaten whole as a cure for ague. Ashwinders are found worldwide" I didn't want to leave you hanging... If you wonder why children were snickering, just say the name a few times, yet another chance to revel in childhood hilarity. 


	4. Go on, But Never Forget

A/N: Same ol' same ol' the characters and all belongs to JKR... the plot belongs to me, ha ha ha ha ha ha!  
  
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The next few weeks treated Ginny with the same lack of respect, constant bereavement from good old Snape, inconstant attention from her student, and the regular onslaught of Harry memories that came with the territory.  
  
Outside of her classroom stood the tree where he first told her that he loved her. The branches still hung the same way, casting a hazy, dreamy light on those who sat beneath it; she always saw students sitting underneath it and was constantly reminded of him. She brought herself to approach it the next evening, images of their midnight escapes flashing through her memory; their promise rings were still there. They always wondered how long they'd stay, if some creature would run away with them or other students stumble upon them. That was where they both gave up that innocent adolescent part of them and tucked those rings in the nook of the tree just to see if they'd stay. The thread that tied them together had rotted away, but they were both still there.  
  
Ginny held them in her hand for a little while, flooded with emotion, not knowing whether to keep them with her or return them to their resting- place. She reluctantly tucked them in the pocket of her robe, rationalizing her decision with the idea that too many things about Harry were in a final resting place, these tiny little momentos didn't need to stay there as well. She took them back to her room and tied a new string around them, so they wouldn't separate and put them on the chain around her neck.  
  
Often between classes, she would stand by the window, clutching the rings in her fingers, watching the sun cast its soft haze on other young lovers. She watched, knowing that no awful war could separate them, Harry made sure of that. She silently cursed him, without tears, she forced herself not to cry for him now that she held a little more of him near. She started forcing herself to move on and stop thinking about him all the time, but decided later to only tackle one goal at a time.  
  
So there she stood next to her window. The crisp autumn chill kept most indoors, no couples sneaking out of class today, but still she watched that tree. This kind of weather never kept them away, in fact it only made their meetings more frequent since no one would think to look outside. The sun still shone with the brightness of August but the few November leaves left upon their tree told of the changing season.  
  
"I never really liked him, you know," 'Damnit, Snape!' she silently cursed, 'Why must you ruin this for me?' "but no one could object to the fact that he was braver than us all."  
  
"Who are you talking about?" she played dumb. He couldn't know she was thinking about him, that she thought about him before and after every class everyday.  
  
"You know who. I realize that this all must be very difficult for you, especially here." He stood strangely close behind her, not touching her, but she could feel his presence and hear his nearness without looking. "At least, after Voldemort took her from me, I could leave and find somewhere new, somewhere to escape—Hogwarts. This is no escape for you I'd imagine."  
  
"You lost someone to Voldemort?" Ginny was taken aback; she'd never imagined that Snape's cold exterior was caused by anything other than him being a Slytherin. Now she knew the real reason.  
  
"I've lost many, but I know you mean Reagan. We were long, fresh out of school, both Aurors in the Ministry of Magic. That's where I met her, that's the reason I never go back there if I don't have to, everything reminds me of her. I'm sorry Virginia, but that never goes away. Reagan died twenty-eight years ago, before I ever taught here, before you were even born. She always creeps into my mind, everyday. I know you feel like this will pass, but perhaps you don't want it to. Never forget him. Go on of course, but never forget."  
  
"Have you really gone on?" she asked, but he had left. Third years piled into her class, pulling her away from herself. There would be much to think about later 


End file.
